Free First and Last by Rachael Duncan Page A

might not be the right fit for me. It’s not like we made some pact to follow each other afterward, but that was before we became . . . us . Things are more complicated now and if I thought it would be hard to not see her before, it kills me now.
    I study her features, briefly seeing the six-year-old little girl who moved in next door almost eleven years ago. Now, she’s a gorgeous person that is kind and thoughtful and selfless. And she amazes me every damn day.
    Holding her face in both of my hands, I look into her big, blue eyes. “I love you, Mia.” I couldn’t hold it in another moment. I think I’ve loved her since she came over and ate a grilled cheese sandwich with me the first day I met her.
    Her eyes widen and her lips part, but she’s silent. My heart gallops in my chest and I forget to breathe as I wait for her to say something—anything. Finally, her features soften and the smallest smile pulls at her lips. “I love you too.”
    I’m soaring with those four words. Words that let me know she feels the same about me as I do her. I’m like a kid who has seen fireworks for the first time. I’m both amazed and so damn happy.
    My lips gently collide with hers, wanting to taste every inch of her mouth slowly. To pour all the love I have into her soul. She gives just as good as she takes, and we can’t get enough of each other.
    I feel her smile against my mouth as her hand threads through my shaggy, brown hair. My hands travel to her waist and grip it. She moves to her knees, never breaking contact from my lips, and straddles my lap. My palms go to her ass and pull her close. I let out a small groan in the back of my throat as her center touches my hard on. It’s straining painfully against my zipper, begging to break free.
    Moving back to her hips, my thumb slips under her shirt, rubbing the smooth skin below it. Her grip on my hair tightens as does my hold on her. Needing to feel more of her as she devours my mouth, my hand moves under her shirt, claiming the same spot my thumb was resting. I explore her flat stomach like a blind man reads braille. When I’m satisfied that not an inch has been left untouched, I move slowly north, taking my time to make sure this is okay with her. My thumb reaches the underside of her bra covered breast and her breath hitches. She pulls away a little and stops my hand. I smile against her mouth and halt my progression.
    “Sorry. I got a little carried away,” I tell her breathlessly.
    “It’s okay,” she whispers, not meeting my eyes.
    I place my finger under her chin and lift her face up until she’s looking at me. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t feel bad. You can tell me to stop whenever you want, alright?” The tension and worry in the corners of her eyes relaxes and she nods. “Now tell me you love me.”
    “I love you,” she says with a smile.
    “Good. Remember that in a few seconds.”
    “Wha—” Her squeal cuts off her question as I scoop her up and run toward the water. “Blake Collins, don’t you dare!” she threatens, but I don’t listen. I run into the water, kicking it up behind me as I go. Her giggles and screams are heard above the splashing until I’m thigh-deep and drop her.
    She emerges with a gasp as she holds her hands out and looks at her soaked clothes. “I swear to God I’m going to kill you,” she says.
    With a cocky grin on my face, I tell her, “Bring it.”

Present
    I open my eyes slowly, blinking several times as I adjust to the light.
    Damn, I must have been knocked out. Taking a peek at my body, nothing seems to be wrong. Well, other than I still can’t fucking move my legs and it feels like someone has taken a hammer to my body.
    My head throbs and I can hear my pulse in my ears. I landed on my back, looking up at the sky that’s tainted with the product of hell on earth. Smoke blows through the trees, making the air thick with ash and hard to breathe.
    I pat my thigh to make sure my radio is still there, and send up